Drunkenly Betrayed
by FelixNFalla
Summary: In one night alone, he had been drunkenly betrayed by his partner AND a brother, had his heart broken, found comfort in the most unexpected person, and then had his heart re-built. SpaMano, GerIta, and Germano if you squint. Rating may change, possible lime in later chapters\.


**(This is Spamano. There is some Germano if you squint, though, and a**  
><strong>little bit of GerIta)<strong>

**I don't own Hetalia (GOD DAMMIT) and this is rated T for Lovino's mouth and rating MIGHT change because there possibly will be a lime in a later chapter.**

It was a painful, yet wonderful night.

In one night alone, he had been betrayed by his partner AND a brother, had his heart broken, found comfort in the most unexpected person, and then had his heart re-built by all of them.

Romano whimpered, feeling pressure build behind his eyes, warning him of the looming threat of tears. Spain was across the bar, kissing someone. Someone, who, identified as none other than Veneciano.

Lovino and Antonio had been dating for two months now, and their relationship was loving and compassionate, as far as relationships involving Romano went. Nothing could have warned him that one innocent little night at a bar would lead to him cheating. Spain was cheating with Romano's own brother, no less!

The South Italian bit his lip. He didn't forgive his lover just because he could have been drunk He didn't forgive his partner for the possibility he mistook Italy for Romano. He absolutely hated Spain right now. Hated every single bit of him, from that fucking stupid white smile to those dirty, brown leather boots.

"I hate you..." Romano whispered. However his whispers grew into yells that caught everyone in the bar off guard.

"I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING CHEATING HEARTLESS BASTARD SON OF A BITCH!" He half sobbed and half screamed at his boyfriend. The bar went silent, the only noise brought by thunder rolling outside. He pointed, yelling more vulgar insults and threats.

The Italian spun around to face his brother. "And YOU! YOU WEREN'T EVEN FIGHTING AGAINST HIM! I KNOW YOU AREN'T DRUNK, EITHER! YOU HAVEN'T HAD ANYTHING TO DRINK ALL NIGHT!" He spat, angry tears pouring down his cheeks as he ran out of the bar and into the night storm.

Romano didn't stop running until he was at least four blocks away from the club in an unknown location, and even then he wished he had the energy to continue. His legs buckled, leaving him sitting and crying on the sidewalk, rain soaking his clothing and the ground around him.

"Why- G-god dammit, why?" Lovino whispered and tried desperately to stop the flow of tears to no avail. "Lord, what did I do to deserve this?" He asked the stormy sky, wishing for anything as a sign of an answer.

"Hm? Who's there?" A deep voice from an unknown place asks.

"Wha-?"

"Who is there?" The voice sounded like it was getting closer, and Romano tried to make his own less wobbly and cracking.

"I- I am Italy Romano. With whom am I s-speaking?"

"Romano? Uh... This is Germany," A man stepped from the darkness. "What are you doing here?"

"Potato bastard! You have no right whatsoever to ask me that!"

"Well, I would think I did, since this is my yard..." Ludwig rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, with the hand he wasn't using to hold an umbrella.

"O-oh... um... It's... a long story. I'll just... go," Romano stood up.

"At this time of night, and in the rain?" Germany cocked his head curiously.

"Well... yeah."

"You live with Spain, right?"

"... Yes, but... I can't really go back right now."

"Then where would you go?"

"I don't know, actually. I guess I can sleep in an airport or something."

"An airport? You can stay here for tonight, if you want too."

Romano's pride encouraged him to say no, but the reasonable part of him wanted him to say yes. For once, the Italian didn't listen to his pride. "Sure, bastardo. T-thanks."

Ludwig reached forward to hold the umbrella under the other man. "Follow me."

Lovino pushed the umbrella back. "I'm already wet, and you're dry, so you should have it."

Germany rolled his eyes. "Quit being stubborn and take it. You hate me, don't you, so how would it matter?"

South Italy finally accepted it and started walking slightly behind the German.

As soon as Romano entered the warm house, he remembered how cold he was. The cold brought back memories of the night, making him feel his throat knot again.

"Romano, are you okay?" Ludwig returned with a cup of coffee for the Italian.

"What makes you think I'm not okay, bastard?!"

"You're... crying." It was only then Romano could feel the wet on his cheeks and still pouring from his eyes. He hiccuped once, the moments passing awkwardly. "A-are you alright?"

Another moment of silence, and then Lovino exploded. "Does it LOOK like I'm okay?! WELL I'M NOT! My boyfriend was making out with my own brother!" He broke into sobs again, wiping his eyes in a constant effort.

"Romano," Germany set a large hand on the other's shoulder, very gently. "Sit down."

He guided the other towards his couch, but Romano stubbornly remained standing. "I don't want to sit."

"Fine," Ludwig replied, knowing Romano would be difficult with this. "Well I've lain out some dry clothes that would fit you. You best change, you'll catch a cold like that."

"I don't want your potato bastard clothes."

"Then at least get under a blanket, that's also near the clothes."

"I don't need one."

Germany rubbed his forehead. Suddenly, he hit Romano in the back of the knees lightly but enough to make him fall, where the German caught him and literally carried him to another room where said supplies were and wrapped a blanket around the other. "Will I have to put clothes on you as well?" His voice took a warning tone.

"No!" Romano shook his head, quite frightened of the German's tone. He hurried to the bathroom to change.


End file.
